


A Feast For The Heart

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: Doomed love is just as painful when the object of one's affections is a city.(A non-shippy piece I wrote for a now-defunct zine, focusing on Altissia.)





	A Feast For The Heart

In the sunlight, Altissia glows. The warmth and brilliance conspire to lend the place a serene, lazy air. The walls of water seem surprisingly distant, despite their scale and grandeur. Ignis had expected them to intrude, visible and claustrophobia-inducing from every angle. Instead, Altissia is one of the prettiest and most airy cities Ignis has ever seen, with buildings that seem to grow from the water, water-washed piazzas and bleached stairways.

This doesn't make the place any less of a maze, of course, but at least the frustration of getting lost is offset by the beauty.

They cross the same canal for the third time in approximately seven minutes, having hit yet another dead-end in their exploration. The Totomostro stadium looms large on the horizon, and in a more logically laid-out city it would be an excellent landmark to navigate by. In fact, in any other city, the vast quantities of landmarks on offer, the waterwheels, the palaces, the walls of water, the harbour, would make this place intuitive to roam. And yet.

"It should be… right above us," Gladio says, squinting at the map. "More or less."

Noctis, at the water's edge, craning his neck. "Up there?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

Ignis has known Noctis for a very long time, more than enough to anticipate his next proposal. "No."

"But--"

"You are _not_ warping within the city boundaries. That is the fastest way to alert the Imperial authorities to your presence."

To his credit, Noctis just shoots him a glare, instead of protesting.

"Besides, we couldn't follow, and _all_ of us would like to see the dress."

"Wish it was like getting to Maagho," Prompto says, and folds himself down to sit cross-legged on the floor. "We could just jump on a gondola."

"Alas, they don't have gondolas in mid-air."

"They do," Prompto says, brightly and unhelpfully, as Noctis joins him on the floor. "On those tall canals. Aqueducts."

Ignis shoots another look at Gladio, who has just turned his map around by ninety degrees. It does seem unlikely he'll agree to turn back the way they came, even though there's no possible way they can go forward. He sighs, and joins the other two on the floor. Perhaps they can fit in a quick game of King's Knight while Gladio argues himself into retracing their steps.

"Over there," Noctis says, pointing upwards at a bridge to the north of their location. "I bet that goes where we need."

Ignis follows it with his eyes, to the far side of the river. There are no visible stairs, but there's a gondola station on the other side, nestled below a wrought-iron bridge that looks almost weightless. Like almost every view in this city, it is both beautiful and yet a complete mystery in terms of how to actually navigate to it.

"Possibly," he says, carefully.

"Maybe we shouldn't bother going to see the dress," Noctis says, quietly. "I mean. It's just a dress for a wedding that isn't even happening."

"It's a symbol," Prompto says. "It's important."

"A symbol of what? A treaty that got broken?"

Ignis doesn't have a good answer for that, and it seems Prompto doesn't either.

"Ugh." Noctis tosses a stone out into the water. "I don't know what I'm even doing here."

There's a long silence, in which Ignis tries out several sentences in his head and dismisses them. They're in Altissia to seek Leviathan's blessing, as far as Ignis can guess from the instructions they've been given. But what Noctis refers to by his uncertainty is wider in scope than merely their current mission, encompasses prophecy and destiny as well as the immediate future. And while Ignis could recite all he knows of the fate of the Chosen King, it would hardly be comforting.

"Alright. Back up we go," Gladio announces, mercifully breaking the tension. "I figured out where I got turned around. C'mon, before the light goes."

Gladio's new route leads them up a stone staircase and into what appears to be another dead-end, but -- in what seems to be a surprise even to Gladio -- there's an easy-to-miss archway tucked into the wall at the far end of it, leading up more stairs and onto a wide avenue overlooking the canal.

A few hundred paces later, and they reach their goal.

The dress is _magnificent_.

Even through glass, even through the throngs of people outside the store, the quality and craftsmanship is obvious. Altissian tailors are as skilled as their architects, clearly. There are artist's impressions of how the ensemble would look on Lady Lunafreya. Ignis feels a strong pang of sympathy for Noctis. To be promised a wedding to one's childhood friend, to have been given an inkling of how lovely that bride would look and know it will never come to pass. No wonder Noctis seems uncomfortable, isn't joining Prompto in elbowing to the front of the crowd for a better look.

Lady Lunafreya is here already, in Altissia, of course. Ignis wonders how she feels about the cancelled wedding. Perhaps it's both a pity and a relief, the same combination of reactions Noctis is struggling to reconcile.

"I think that's enough," Ignis says, raising his voice enough for Gladio and Prompto to hear. "We can't linger here all day."

With that out of the way, they are, in theory, free to roam Altissia as they please. Ignis finds a nearby cafe, after asking a few people for recommendations. The pastries may be the finest he's ever seen. He takes notes on the flavour combinations, while they discuss their options.

"We should head to Maagho," Gladio says, firmly. "That's where we're supposed to go. Weskham's got contacts to give us."

"True, though I rather think we can postpone. Maagho will still be there in the morning."

"Totomostro!"

They all look at Prompto. "That's just gambling," says Noctis. "I dunno if it's worth it."

"Are you kidding? It's _the_ big event here. I read the flyer and we should totally go, even if it's just to watch. And there are good prizes. Even _fishing_ prizes."

Noctis goes from indifferent to intrigued instantly. "Yeah?"

Everything in Altissia seems somewhat overpriced to Ignis's way of thinking, and he suspects the gambling stadium will require them to dig deep in their pockets, but they _can_ afford to spend without concern right now. "We can certainly drop by. Any other thoughts?"

"I bet we could pick up some hunts from local sources," Gladio offers. "Keep ourselves in fighting shape."

"And risk, again, being spotted using magic by the Empire's spies. I'd really rather keep ourselves from notice." Ignis sets down his cup. "If fighting is unnecessary, we're best avoiding it."

"If Noct doesn't warp or--"

Ignis shakes his head, firmly. "No."

"I'd like to go do some fishing. I looked it up on the way here, and there's like twenty different fishing spots you can use for free," Noctis says, and when they all just _look_ at him he sighs. "I mean, what I _want_ to do is find where Luna's being held, sneak in to talk to her. But you'll all say no."

"You know that's too risky," Gladio says. "Fishing it is, then. Unless you've got something in mind, Iggy?"

Ignis thinks he would be perfectly content to remain here, in this sunbleached plaza with coffee. It's peaceful. The gondoliers call one warnings as they pass each other in the canal nearby, one can hear the sounds of machinery rumbling in the cafe's kitchens, and there's a gentle susurrus of conversation from the nearby customers. Civilisation. Ignis has missed it desperately.

"Let's make our way towards the Totomostro stadium," Ignis says, and waves towards the waiter. "If our route happens to pass somewhere interesting, we'll explore."

With Noctis leading the way this time, their route, suspiciously enough, passes by not one but _three_ docks where fishing is permitted. Having allowed Noctis an _hour_ of dallying at the first and second piers, Ignis is inclined to roll his eyes and insist they ignore the third.

Except, well.

The canal opens up to their left, permitting an arresting glimpse of the walls of water cascading in the distance and the waters of the harbour sparkling gold and silver. There's a souvenir stand selling colourful trinkets and an array of food vendors hawking their wares. White flowers adorn every wall, every balcony, a dizzying display of opulence in the vivid sunlight. Somewhere nearby, an unseen virtuoso starts up a heart-wrenchingly lovely tune on a violin.

A breeze stirs the surface of the canal, shakes the blossoms nearby, and whispers coolly across Ignis's face.

It's too beautiful, and Ignis admits to himself: he _loves_ Altissia.

"I suppose you may as well cast a line here," he says, and for a miracle neither Prompto nor Gladio challenge the decision. "Though I can't promise I'll have a chance to cook anything you catch."

He goes to buy himself a coffee nearby as Noctis rummages for bait, watches Prompto drift towards the harbour to take some photos, sees Gladio pull out a book and curl up on a bench. When left to their own devices, all of his companions have default pastimes. It's comforting that there's peace and time enough to allow them to indulge, here in this glorious backdrop.

Ignis is, at heart, a tactician and a thinker. He speculates.

They came to Altissia for the blessing of Leviathan. Lady Lunafreya is to awaken the goddess, and the Empire is well-prepared for that ceremony. They'll do their best to bring Leviathan down, hoping to add another Astral corpse to their victories. Leviathan won't go down easily, not if Ignis's recollections of mythology are correct. Last time she awoke, Altissia was devastated. A ruin. 

There will be _violence_ when Leviathan awakes again.

He stares at the nearest building, rising up out of the waters on a bed of concrete and tarred wood. Sturdy, for all that Altissia is reputedly sinking into the sea. But likely not sturdy enough.

In the eye of his mind, he sees a vision, as if granted from the future. Leviathan's vast form, rising out of the harbour, bringing tidal swells that swamp the sunlit plazas and boardwalks. Stones ripped up, walls toppled. Armies descending from on high. Bombardment, fires and chaos. Destruction, absolute and unstoppable.

It's overwhelming. Reaching out to steady himself, Ignis's hand comes to rest on the wrought-iron lamp-post to his side. Overhead the post splits in two and swirls upwards, a graceful double spiral that cups a frosted glass globe. There is beauty and elegance even in a functional light source, where none is required. Centuries of care and work shine in every corner, devoted to making the city what it is.

His throat closes in sorrow. Altissia, this gem, this city of grace, this _pinnacle_ , will not last the week.

And there's not a thing Ignis can do to prevent it.

Noctis, before him, casts out a line into the canal. For the briefest second, Ignis considers radical action. Noctis had wanted to find Lady Lunafreya; why, then, not do that, thread the labyrinth of Altissia's passageways and bridges with her, flee the city without Leviathan's awakening. Spare this place, elude the Empire, regroup somewhere without so much at stake. Surely that's within their power. Surely they can spare Altissia.

The violin melody soars suddenly, melancholy and sweet, pulling Ignis out of fantasy and back to the present. No. There will be no daring rescue, no evading fate. All they can do is hope to mitigate the worst of what is to come.

Right now, Altissia glows, brilliant and golden in the light.

The world will never know its like again.


End file.
